Neil smiled thinly. He leaned forward, keeping his gaze fixed on the man's smoke-blue eyes.

"I don't care," he whispered.

Then he turned his horse and rode for his end of the list. He reached it, turned, and waited.

He patted his horse's neck. "I don't care," he confided to his mount.

The horn blew, and he gave Ohfahs the heel. His left arm was starting to hurt. If he lifted or extended it, he knew it would cramp, but it worked just fine for couching a lance. As the stallion gathered speed, he let his shield fall away, concentrating only on putting the point where he wanted it.

PART II

MANIFESTATIONS OF SEVERAL SORTS

He found her there beneath the cliffIn the shallows of the seaHer body like a white, white swa.n.a.ll still and cold was she He kissed her on her pale wet lipsAnd combed her bonny hairHe cut twelve golden strands of itAnd strung his harp with care The harp it sang of murderThe harp it sang of bloodIt rang across the lands of fateTo the darkling western wood-FROM "T "THOS T TOE S SOSTEREN," A FOLKSONG OF N NEWLAND, TRANSLATED INTO K KING'S T TONGUE BY S STEPHEN D DARIGEA b.u.t.terfly, as it turns out, is only a thing for making more worms.-FROM T THE A AMVIONNOM OF OF P PRESSON M MANTEO

CHAPTER ONE.

EMPRESS OF THE R RED H HALL.

ANNE STOOD on the bow of the royal ferry and stared up at the walls and towers of Eslen, wondering at how alien they seemed. She had lived all but one of her seventeen winters on that hill, within that fortress. The island's forests and greens had been her playground. Shouldn't she feel like she was coming home? on the bow of the royal ferry and stared up at the walls and towers of Eslen, wondering at how alien they seemed. She had lived all but one of her seventeen winters on that hill, within that fortress. The island's forests and greens had been her playground. Shouldn't she feel like she was coming home?

But she didn't. Not in the least.

When they reached the slip and the boat was secure, her horse, Faster, was brought around. She mounted it for the procession through the city but paused at the great Fastness gate, frowning at the ma.s.sive stone of its construction.

"Majesty?" Cauth asked. "Is something the matter?"

Her pulse was thumping strangely in her neck, and she couldn't seem to draw a deep breath.

"Wait," she said. "Just wait a moment."

She turned and looked back the way they had come, across the slow flood of the Dew River and the green fields of Newland beyond, to the malends on the distant dike turning against the blue sky. She knew that all she wanted to do was cross that water again and ride, keep riding until she was so far away that no one had ever heard of Eslen or Crotheny or Anne Dare.

Instead she turned, set her shoulders, and rode through the portal.

Crowds had collected along the Rixplaf Way, and each square was full of merriment, as if it were a holiday. They chanted her name and threw flowers before her horse, and she tried to seem pleased and smile for them, when it was the best she could do not to bolt Faster through the throngs at a dead run.

When she had returned from exile the previous spring, almost no one had recognized who she was. At the time she had been surprised and a little chagrined that so few people knew what their princess looked like. Now that anonymity was another precious thing forever lost to her.

By the time they reached the castle itself, Anne wanted nothing more than to hide in her rooms for a time, but she knew there wouldn't be any peace there; that was where Austra would be, and she didn't quite feel like facing her oldest friend. Better to confront her counselors and find out just what was being blamed on her absence this day.

"I'll give an audience in the Hall of Doves," she told Cauth. "I'd like to see Duke Fail de Liery, Duke Artwair, John Waite, Lord Bishop, and Marhgreft Sighbrand. Have them there in half a bell, would you?"

"It's done, Majesty," the Sefry replied.

John Waite, of course, was already waiting in the Hall of Doves when Anne arrived there. Plump, balding, pleasant of expression, John had been her father's valet. He'd been imprisoned and apparently forgotten by Robert, which was a better fate than most of the late king's staff had received.

"Majesty," he said, bowing as she entered the room.

"h.e.l.lo, John," she replied.

"I understand you wanted to speak with me, Majesty."

She nodded. "Yes, John. I was going to wait until everyone was here, but we may have something of a delay while they're all found." She took a seat in what once had been her father's armchair, a straight-backed affair with arms carved to resemble feathered pinions. Made of white ash, it fit well in the white marble and abundant light of the Hall of Doves.

"My father trusted you more than anyone, John, and I know the two of you were close."

"That's very kind of you to say, Your Majesty. I miss your father a great deal."

"I do, too," she said. "I wish he were in this chair right now, not me. But it is me, as that's how it is."

"It's what your father wanted."

Anne almost laughed. "I'm sure he imagined Fastia here, not me. No one imagined it would be me here, I'm sure. Was I horrible to you, John?"

He smiled indulgently. "Just a bit of a prankster," he said. "But I always knew you had a good heart."

"I was horrible," Anne contradicted. "And I may be horrible yet; I'm still learning. But I hope you will consider being gardoald and keybearer of the house Dare."

The old man's eyes widened. "Majesty-I-I haven't the blood for that position."

"You will when I create you lord," she replied.

John reddened. "Your Highness, I've no idea what to say."

"Say yes. You won't thrust a knife in my back, John. I need men like that."

He bowed deeply. "I would be most honored," he replied.

"Good. We'll discuss particulars later, but the first thing I'd like you to do is see to finding me some ladies-in-waiting and a female head of staff. Someone absolutely trustworthy, you understand? Someone whom I don't have to worry about and who will not bother me much."

John bowed again, but when he straightened, he had a puzzled expression. "Your young maid, Austra. I should consider her for head of staff."

"No, I have other plans for her."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he nodded. "As you wish."

"Thank you, John. Please arrange for some wine to be brought and then rejoin me here. As my gardoald, these discussions will concern you."

"Yes, Majesty."

She heard footsteps approaching and looked up in time to see Artwair come in.

"Well, Cousin," she said. "Here I am, just as you wished."

"I am pleased," he said. "We need our empress here, Anne."

"I'm here," she replied. "When the others arrive, we'll discuss those matters you deem most urgent."

"Who else is coming?"

"John will be back. I'm making him gardoald."

"That's not a bad choice," Artwair said. "You'll have to t.i.tle him."

"I know. Can you think of a good one?"

Artwair frowned. "Haul Atref, I should think. One of Robert's puppets slaughtered the former Lord Haul and all his kin. The castle is garrisoned but masterless."

"Then I shall create him Lord Haul," Anne said.

"Well, here's my grandniece, back from her adventures," a lowtimbred voice said.

"Grannuncle Fail," Anne said, allowing him to gather her in a hug. "I trust all went well at Copenwis."

"As well as it could. I still don't like it, but I imagine they're in Hansa by now."

"Mother will be fine," Anne said. She heard more footsteps and saw that the others had arrived.

"My lords," she said. "Let's begin, shall we? Tell me what I need to know. Duke of Haundwarpen, you first."

Artwair drew himself up and clasped his wooden hand with his living one. "Hansa continues to occupy Copenwis, and they are ma.s.sing ships there and in Saltmark. My guess is that they will disembark ground forces for a march on Eslen and send their navy against Liery. There are also reports of an army gathering at Schildu, on the Dew River. Their intention there is probably to cut off our river trade, then use the river to move down into Newland."

"A familiar strategy," Anne said. "That's like what we did."

"Precisely, Majesty."

"Do they have the men to come at us from all of these directions and deal with the Lierish fleet as well?"

Sir Fail cleared his throat. "If I may?"

"Spell on," she said.

"They haven't the ships to take Liery, not alone. But there is rumor that a fleet is a.s.sembling at z'Espino. Moreover, it is nearly certain that Rakh Fadh is allied with Hansa, although there's no way of knowing how many ships they have or will send."

"What about our allies? Or do we have any?"

"Riders tell us that an emba.s.sy from Virgenya will arrive soon, probably sometime tomorrow."

"An emba.s.sy? I'm their empress. I don't want an emba.s.sy; I want the ships and troops we asked for three months ago."

"You may take that up with the Virgenyans," Artwair said. "Of all of the parts of the empire, they are the most independent, and they like to make a show of it."

"There will be a show," Anne muttered more or less under her breath. Then she turned to the other two men.

"Lord Bishop, Marhgreft Sighbrand, I trust you are well."

"Very well, Your Highness," Bishop replied.

"Lord Bishop, we made you master of the treasury, did we not?"

"You did, Majesty."

"What is the state of it?"

Lord Bishop's lips tightened. "Robert did a bit of looting before he fled the city, it seems."

"Can we pay and supply our troops?"

"For the time being. But if we have another levy-even a modest one-it will make our belts very tight."

"Even with the confiscated Church properties?"

"Even with that, yes," he replied.

"I see. Well, we need to find some more silver, don't we?"

"Yes, Majesty."

She turned to Sighbrand. "Marhgreft?"

"Majesty."

"The duke tells us that troops are gathering at Schildu. That is very near your greffy of Dhaerath, isn't it?"

"It is. Very near."

"I called you here to ask you to be my prime minister. I've been advised you would make a good one."

Sighbrand's lips twitched. "I'm honored, Majesty."